Queen's Night Ch. 02

Hey, everyone. Chapter 2 is here! I want to thank everyone who read Chapter 1 and rated/reviewed it. You people are my crack! Special thanks go out to my wonderful editor, Heather, for kicking my grammatical ass.

Sheriff Kelly led Parker and Rick from the doctor's lab. "It's too bad his face was mangled like that." She remarked. "We could have canvassed the area, seen if anyone knew the guy."

Parker nodded "So, who found the body?" He asked.

"One of the loggers, man named Olson. He was out by a local river, our Cold River, and found the body."

"All right. Think I can find Olson over at the company?" Parker asked.

"I would guess you could. Think you can find something from him about the case?"

Parker shrugged, as if to say in his own way that he didn't doubt their police work. "I like to take a look into things personally. Maybe he'd remember something, or maybe I'll just end up just having a verbal copy of the report you give me. But either way, it's thoroughness's sake."

"Of course, I can understand, Agent McLaren." She said. "All right, let's get you that report."

They exited out into the street, the cool mountain air nipping at Parker as he wished he'd dressed warmer. He looked to Kelly and asked. "So is it just you and Rick and Braun?"

"No, I have two more deputies who are out on the road today. Found a car wreck with no body. Always fun." Her eye roll made Parker relax a little. Kelly seemed like a professional, but he had been worried the locals would stonewall him. It wouldn't have been the first time.

He was about to comment when suddenly, a pang shot through his stomach. "Aw, hell," He grunted, and he bent over at the waist, trying to catch his breath. The pain was intense, like hot needles being driven into his skin and his head. Every bad hangover he'd had was rolled up into one and brought back into him.

He fought the desire to be sick, having just heaved in the Doctor's exam room. His vision whited from the pain, roaring through him.

"Parker?" He heard Rick say. "Agent McLaren?"

Parker looked up. His vision cleared, for just a moment. His eyes centered in on one thing, and one thing only.

Her.

She was gorgeous, beautiful. Dark brown hair fell in curls around her shoulders and over her flannel shirt. Jeans framed a pair of legs that made Parker want to beg for more. Whoever she was, she had an air of noble beauty, timeless.

"Fuck." He heard the Sheriff grunt. "Come on, we've got to get him off the street. We can take him to the hotel."

Parker wanted to protest. He was fine, he swore. Just pain and unconsciousness, nothing big. He had to talk to that woman, just say hello.

But his body other plans as he lost his thoughts.

***

A dim light shone on the edge of Parker's vision. He assessed his situation. He was staring up at a stucco ceiling, illuminated barely by a lamp next to him. He lay on a stiff mattress. The pain had turned into a dull roar, more an ache than the stabbing pain that had struck him earlier.

"Where am I?" He said out loud.

"Cold River Hotel." Sheriff Kelly said from beside him.

Parker turned his head to see her sitting in an armchair, reading a paperback of Crime and Punishment by the light of the lamp. "What happened?"

"You passed out." She said, her voice curt. "Fisher and I brought you here. The CBI had already made sure you had a room." She licked a finger and used it to flip the page.

"How long was I out?" He murmured.

"Four hours. You're okay now. You just need to eat. Can't have our statie passing out on us again, can we?"

Parker didn't have the strength to glare. "Know a place that delivers?" He asked.

Kelly nodded towards the dresser the TV stood on. There was a paper bag there. "Fisher got you a burger before heading home. Should still be warm."

"You can swing by tomorrow. We grabbed your keys and got your bags out so you wouldn't have to worry about it."

"Thanks, Sheriff Kelly." He slowly got off the bed and stood. "I hate to sound like a nag, but that report..."

She nodded. "Of course. I've got the file sitting on your bags." She closed her book abruptly, and then stood. "I've got something to take care of." She handed him his card. "Call me or the department if you need anything related to the case. For everything else, talk to Johnny at the front desk. Kid's good for just about anything."

"Johnny, right." He said. "Thanks for everything, Sheriff. I'll stop by your office first thing tomorrow if I have any questions. I'll check with that Olson at the logging company, see if I can dig up anything."

"Very well, Agent McLaren." She said, and donned her paddle holster. "Have a good night." She headed for the door.

"You too." Parker said in farewell.

He looked into the bag and found the burger in a plastic box. He dug in and devoured the burger, not even bothering to really taste it, though it was pretty good when the aftertaste sat in his mouth. He grabbed a glass of water and sat down with the report.

The victim was found about twenty feet from the edge of Cold River's banks. The man who found him, Roger Olson, had said it looked like an animal attack at first. He had called it in with his manager, who had in turn called in the sheriff.

The man was found naked which made this only stranger. He didn't want to consider what the implications of that were. At least, his human side didn't. The investigator, however, wanted nothing more than to get into it and figure out every last detail.

But as he started to theorize and think, his thoughts drifted back to the woman. Who was she? And why had she caused him to pass out? Despite whatever Kelly said, he knew the woman was somehow linked to his pain and him passing out.

And the thought of her aroused him like nothing else. It was nothing like he'd ever felt before. She was something new, mysterious. Exotic power just rolled off of her. He scolded himself, mentally. He had just seen her for a second in a haze of pain. Whatever things he was, irrational must have been one of them.

He rummaged through his bags and found a pair of sleeping pills. At around ten, he fell asleep. He left matters of the murder and life to tomorrow, remembering the biblical saying "tomorrow will take care of itself."

***

Alyse had made herself disappear after the man had collapsed. She had no intention of attracting Sheriff Kelly's attention, as the bitch was sure to think she was involved somehow.

As she headed towards her destination, her mind still was wrapped around the sight of that man. He didn't smell human. But he did not smell like a were, or a witch. He certainly wasn't one of the Fae. No, his skin was too tan for him to be a Sidhe.

Whatever he was, though, she was sure he would be delicious. She imagined sinking her teeth into his body, tasting his delicious blood as he sunk himself into-

She shook her head, snapping out of it. "You are not a silly school girl." She said aloud. "One man should not be distracting you so." But even as Alyse told herself that, there was an instinct inside of her. It was the monster of her, the one that told her to claim him, to mark him as hers.

She stopped, took a deep breath, and counted to ten, verbally. She saw she was at her destination, and headed inside. She was instantly greeted with the smell of blood. No doubt Damon had some new experiment going on.

She passed the entry way and headed past the waiting room into the labs. She saw Damon through a window, in his scrubs and in a lab coat. "Good afternoon, old friend." Alyse greeted him.

"Alyse, Your Majesty." Damon inclined his head towards her. The microphone and speakers allowed them to chat through the seal. Damon always insisted she never come in when he was performing experiments.

Alyse had been offended, at first, until he had explained to her the idea of contamination and the need for pure results. That had been two centuries ago, and since then they had gladly communicated at a distance when Damon was at work.

"Damon, I am queen of twenty-three vampires. You may dispose of the title when we speak privately." She said.

"I am happy, Damon, I suppose." Though the pangs of lust in her belly, and the ache for blood were not making her happy. Instead, she wanted something. And she didn't even know what he was, or who he was. "You seem wrapped up in something."

"Indeed." He leaned back in his chair a moment, looking at her through the window. "Care to hear a theory of mine?"

"Why not?" Alyse pulled up a chair to sit down. "Share it, Damon."

"You know that there are several bloodlines of vampires, correct? Those who cannot walk in sun, those who are more in touch with the Arcane, and even others who are closer to their demonic heritage than most of us would care to admit?"

"Naturally." She nodded. "I am proud to say I can trace my bloodline back extensively."

"Of course." He nodded and continued. "My theory is taken from several blood samples I have looked at from humans. At the base level, of course, they look like humans. But, if you look at a ridiculously intricate level, I can see similarities between us and certain humans."

"We were all humans once." She noted. There were no born vampires, only those turned.

"Yes, but there is a difference." Damon noted. "While vampires have these changes brought upon them when we are turned, these humans I have sampled have vampiric traits in them. At least, traces of them."

"And so what are they?"

"For lack of a better word...mixed-breeds. Somehow, our two races have mixed and these humans are linked to our future as a race."

"Can you present one of these humans to me?" She asked.

He shook his head. "No, the only case study is over a hundred years old. A friend of mine is sending me the files.

"Who else has heard this idea of yours?"

"Besides you?" He shrugged. "Just Philomena."

She nodded. Philomena, the other vampire scientist in town. A bit less orthodox than Damon, but still a remarkable mind. "And these mixed-breeds. How could we find them?"

"From sight? Honestly, Alyse, I haven't a clue."

***

The matter still gnawed at Alyse as she sat in her office. Both Damon's mixed-breeds and the man she had seen in the street. She wasn't getting any work done, either.

For the last decade or so, she had run the primary bar in Cold River, the Rhett Tavern. Named after the town's founder, George Rhett, it was a favorite of the weres at the logging company and the more human townsfolk. Alyse had bought the bar when she had first moved to town. She wasn't by any means a business owner, though she had learned through a slow and steady trial and error.

But her mind was not focused at all on business tonight. Currently, her mind drifted towards the man in the suit earlier. She wondered if she should pursue the matter. A man as pretty as that would have to be fun, and she did need to feed.

A knock came on her door, breaking her line of thought. She placed her hands on her oak desk and ordered to the intruder. "Enter."

One of her employees, a young woman by the name of Rachel, came in. She had a pretty smile, only accentuating her soft skin and auburn hair. "Miss Harcourt?"

Alyse relaxed into her seat. "Hello, Rachel, dear. What can I do for you?"

"Sheriff Kelly is here. She wants to see you."

"Are her deputies with her?" She asked.

"No, it's just her, ma'am."

Now that was interesting. Usually the Sheriff would bring her goons if she wanted to intimidate her. But coming alone, that was a new one. "Send her in." Alyse ordered, and watched as Rachel left.

She returned with Sheriff Kelly a few minutes later. The blond woman nodded to Alyse. "Hello, Miss Harcourt. I was wondering if I could speak with you privately."

"Of course." Alyse gave Kelly a plain, pleasant smile. "Rachel?" The girl left at her bidding, high-tailing it out back to the floor of the bar. "So, Sheriff Kelly, where should we begin?"

"Let's start with Agent McLaren."

"Who?" Alyse leaned forward, interested.

"The man who collapsed when you got near him today."

"Oh, what was his name again?" She said, affecting to play the innocent party here.

"Agent Parker McLaren." Kelly glared at her. "He's with the CBI. Last thing I need is for staties to get crawling around this place because you're messing with one of their agents."

"Why, Sheriff Kelly. I did nothing to the man." Parker. How she wished she had a beating heart, if just so that it would skip a beat.

"Don't play innocent." A growl crept its way into the Sheriff's voice. It was inhuman, protective. "You don't touch him, Alyse."